We head back downstairs and out the door for the short walk to The Drip. She requires an afternoon cup of coffee to survive, and I think there is no better place for her to dive into the pages. She assured me on the drive to the house that she ate brunch in the airline lounge and isn’t hungry for lunch. I suspect she has butterflies, too.
When we arrive at The Drip, I tell her that I’ve successfully made it to this point in the writing process primarily because of the caffeine provided here.
“You’re entering hallowed ground,” I joke. We walk to the counter to order and I settle her into one of my favorite spots. While she reads inside, I’m going to head outside to a broad wire lounge chair in the shade. It’s too much pressure to be in the shop while she judges my work.
“Here it is,” I say, handing over the stack of pages like it’s my firstborn. “Remember: no prologue yet. This is the first five chapters.”
Felicity nods, grabs her pen, and gets down to business. I walk out the door with an old copy ofPride and Prejudicethat I grab off the communal bookshelf.
—
Ninety minutes goby without a peep from Felicity. No head popping out the door, no text messages from inside. Total silence.
I do get a text from Josh that he’s back at the house earlier than expected.Come by The Drip, I tell him.You can keep me company until Felicity is ready to discuss the first part of my manuscript.
Jane Austen pulls me right back in the second I put my phone down, and when Josh walks up, I don’t notice until he’s right in front of me. I pop up and immediately wrap my arms around him. His embrace makes me feel instantly safe and happy. There is such a newness to all of this that we still get bashful about hanging on to those hugs for an extra second.
What catches my eye next, however, is that he’s wearing a very clean pair of jeans and a light-blue button-up. This is formal attire in Josh Anderson’s world, and he looks very good. He shaved this morning, and now the five o’clock shadow is starting to emerge in the way that drives me insane on men. I am not being discreet at all with regard to my admiration of his look.
“I wanted to make a good first impression on your agent,” he says. “Plus, I thought it was good for you to know that I own more than one nice outfit.”
We sit down and hold hands while he catches me up on his day. I am still amazed that I have someone to hold hands with again.
Felicity emerges from the inside of the shop twenty minutes after Josh arrives. She is carrying her purse and the manuscript, and her eyes are red. I’ve never seen Felicity look quite this way. She locks eyes with me and walks directly to me, not even pausing to acknowledge Josh.
“Gracie, this is phenomenal and I’m a mess. I honestly just want to beg you for more chapters right now because these ones were simply so moving and beautiful and literary, and I want more.”
It takes a moment, but she glances over and notices Josh. A grin emerges and she looks at me and then back at him.
“You must be Josh. I’ve heard a lot about you. Sorry to meet you in this condition. Blame Gracie.”
He stands and reaches out to shake her hand with a warm hello, and I can tell from her expression that I have set her expectations perfectly right. The two of them sit back down, and she immediately returns to praising the book.
“Gracie, be honest with me. Is the rest of the memoir as good as those chapters that I just read?”
“Yes, I think so. To be clear, I proofread and workshopped those fifty pages hard. Everything else is still pretty raw. But I do think that what you’ve read is indicative of the style and tone of the rest.”
“Perfect, just absolutely perfect,” she says, getting teary again, before turning to Josh. “Have you read any of this yet?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve had the privilege of watching her in action all summer. She’s a machine, and I don’t want to mess her up.”
“You keep protecting our girl’s creative process,” she says directly to Josh with a stern face before turning to me again. “You’ll be done soon, and Jeannie is going to be so freaking thrilled with this. People are going to go crazy for this book, Gracie.”
Felicity is not one for bullshit, and neither am I. If she says it’s good, it means it’sreallygood. To be honest, I’ve felt that way since I wrote the first chapter in my bedroom nearly a year ago. Having a professional like Felicity tell you that the writing is great, however, is on a different level. I’m bursting with happiness and pride when I realize I’m squeezing Josh’s hand extra hard and he’s holding me just as tightly back.
—
A few hourslater, we’re laughing over dessert and wine at the French-inspired bistro off of Main Street. Felicity is regaling us with her latest dating mishaps.
“Josh, sorry to put you through this conversation, but Gracie and I have a tradition of sharing our ridiculous experiences. It’s the only way a gal can survive being single as she enters middle age,” Felicity says in a playful tone.
“I thought you said you were twenty-nine,” he says, turning to me and making a puzzled face.
Panic crosses Felicity’s face before I can elbow Josh in his side.
“He’s joking,” I exclaim. Felicity lets out a deep, relieved breath and starts to belly laugh.
When the server brings the bill, all three of us reach for it. I bow out quickly and let equally determined Felicity and Josh fight for the honor.
